A Lone Elder Tree
by IloveMerlinandArthur
Summary: "Who is the Target?" Danny asked, getting right down to business. "He is a traitor of the worst kind and must pay dearly for what he is doing, I believe you have heard of Raymond Reddington, the Concierge of Crime?" What will Red do when a price has been placed upon his head and how will Liz help him take out the three Blacklister's that are coming to town? Rated M for language.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note**: Hi, Everyone. This is my first Fanfic written by me for the Blacklist, I hope you enjoy it!

Prologue

It was around 1:00 pm on a cool and breezy Autumn afternoon, when a black Mercedes with darkly tinted windows pulled onto a dirt driveway. Surrounding the road on both sides, were tall pines, maples, old oaks and ash trees with leaves the colour of yellow, red and purple. Mixed in with the trees was shrubbery and long dry grass that swayed lazily as the car passed – it had not been tended to in years, at the end of the road stood a lone elder tree, standing stark and ancient.

The weather was overcast and their was a high chance of rain, the gathering clouds darkening as the car continued down the dirt road, an ominous rumble could be heard as the Mercedes began to slow to a stop five minutes later. The car stopped short of a broken down sign that read, "Keep out, danger ahead." The car doors opened and out stepped four people – three men and a woman.

The three men were dressed in black and red suits, whereas the woman wore a black and dark purple dress with two inch heels. The group of people made their way down a beaten path that was covered in overgrown grass. They finally came to a stop at a rundown mine, abandoned for about ten years now – it was the perfect place to conduct a secret meeting. The men and the woman were meeting with a legendary sniper, an assassin so proficient, calculative and manipulative that he could go about his business without being caught or suspected.

When the three men and the woman were inside, the woman asked, "So, how long do we have to wait for him to get here?" She had a clear snobbish lilt to her voice – a degrading sound to anyone of a lower class.

The man on her right was about to answer when he was prevented from speaking by another man stepping out of the shadows of a collapsed mine wall.

"No need to wait my lady, I was here not twenty minutes before yourself." Spoke the man, he was dressed all in black, wearing a belt with a silver buckle and carrying a sniper rifle, as was characteristic of him.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Danny, is that your real name or do you not have a last name?" the woman asked.

"You need not know if it is or it isn't, my lady. Shall I ask what your name is?" Danny replied with a question of his own.

"It is probably for the best that I do not know your real identity, for if the police came to me – well I would want to divert their attention from myself to someone… less fortunate. As for my name, you may know it on one condition – that you never speak about this meeting or who was here, is that understood?" the woman said, straightening an imaginary crease out of her dress.

"You have my word that I will not betray your identity to anyone alive, neither will I give away the meeting place." Danny replied with a fake smile, his eyes glittering with a malicious light.

"Very well then," Said the woman, "My name is Katherine Earl-Medina."

"Katherine Earl-Medina, in the high class criminal societies I have heard mention, that you are a real monster – that you delight in the pain and suffering of others" Danny commented, smirking.

"I see that my reputation precedes me, I have a job for you, Danny." Katherine replied.

"Who is the Target?" Danny asked, getting right down to business.

"He is a traitor of the worst kind and must pay dearly for what he is doing, I believe you have heard of Raymond Reddington, the Concierge of Crime?" Katherine asked, motioning for one of the men behind her to hand over a folio of papers and information, with "Classified" stamped on the front.

"Raymond Reddington, yes, I daresay everyone has heard of him, got his sticky little fingers in everything that one." Danny replied, distastefully.

Katherine laughed delightedly then abruptly stopped with a forced smile, she said, "I want you to kill that son of a bitch, he is handing over information to the FBI about all of the major players in the criminal society. Especially those who wish to remain hidden, unnoticed, to keep doing their business without being found out, wouldn't you like to keep hidden, Danny, and not have the truth spilled about that job you did in Dallas, Texas on Friday, November 22, 1963 involving that American president?" Katherine said, trying to rile up the man.

Danny looked a little angered for a moment before he schooled his features to a blank mask, "His name was John F. Kennedy and the law enforcement fools arrested the wrong man, as if Lee Harvey Oswald could have shot him, he was supposedly in the book depository building but that was at a wrong angle, and then the fools, believe it or not decide that the fucking president was shot from behind! Fools the lot of them! But enough about those days, I'll do it – for $100,000. How would you like me to dispose of him?" Danny asked, smiling nastliy.

"Do it however you like, just do it and you'll get your money, after I see the proof." Katherine replied, before turning to the three men standing idle behind her, "I think it's almost dinner time, don't you, Orlando?"

"Yes, my lady, I do." The brown haired man replied.

"Let's go then, I want to be home by 5:00 pm. I have a plane to catch at 9:00 pm" Katherine said, flicking her long black hair.


	2. Chapter One: Tom Isn't Innocent

**Author's Note**: Firstly, I would like to say that any recognisable characters are not mine and never will be sadly Second, I would like to thank Sarah Elizabeth Reddington for being such a great person for reviewing as it was highly appreciated, not to mention that Sarah Elizabeth Reddington is also working on a story for me – it's called Victoria Valentine, that one is good one to check out. Please Read and Review! Thank You

Chapter One: Tom Isn't Innocent

Two days later, Tom had offered to cook dinner for a change and Liz was watching a movie on the television, it was very interesting. The movie was called 27 Dresses, it was about this girl and this reporter guy who ended up falling in love. Liz had always hoped that her relationship could have had the happy ending that this one did, she had dreamed about it, but things weren't going so great, everything just felt so strained at home these days.

Liz glanced at her husband – who was stirring the pasta with a practised hand, whenever she had asked Tom to cook dinner he would say that he was no good at it, but the way he was doing it now told a different story. Liz blinked as she thought about all the troubles that had begun to plague her life ever since Raymond Reddington had demanded to speak with only her.

Tom had been such a nice person to marry, then Reddington comes walking into FBI Headquarters, and then everything starts to go haywire sort of like dominoes – one thing always leads to another. Liz supposed she really shouldn't have been surprised to discover the hidden box under the floor boards, but it had definitely shaken her world, not to mention turning everything she believed to be true on its head.

Liz remembered being terrified to go to sleep at night, fearing the very man she had vowed to always trust, she had at first thought that he was a spy but then the test results for the gun came back, only for her to think of Tom as a murderer. After that having called her colleagues to hand over her husband because she hadn't believed him, how could she when all the evidence pointed squarely at Tom?

Nevertheless, there were still a few questions that came popping up now and then, Liz thought. How could have Tom found the box, if he had not known it was there? That was the most important question, but Liz digressed she hadn't thought much about it though – especially since Gina Zanetako had said that she didn't know who Tom was. Liz determinedly clutched to anything that said that her husband was innocent of any crime, she just wanted a normal life, however that was just another one of her dreams, since the word normal didn't apply to her job as an FBI profiler or to Reddington at least.

After thinking about her husband, Liz turned her thoughts to Reddington. She felt her blood start to boil and a red flush came to her cheeks. Who did that man think he was? Why couldn't he have messed up someone else's life? But, no, it had to be her that he chose! Why? Not even Liz could answer that, only the master of mystery himself could and he wasn't about to share what he was thinking. Liz recalled quite clearly Reddington saying, "I'm never telling you everything."

God! she couldn't even begin to describe how angry she was with him, not after he had insinuated that Tom was sleeping with that woman Gina Zanetako. But then Liz thought, how did a photo of him get into her apartment? However, she quickly dismissed that thought and went back to blaming Red, he had to of been the one to put it there!

"Liz, Darling" called out a voice, breaking through her internal rant, Liz looked up and saw that Tom was the one who spoke.

"What?" Liz asked, heart racing and confused.

"It's dinner, it's ready. Are you alright?" Tom said, with a wary look on his face.

"Oh, no. I'm fine…you just scared me is all, I was thinking and I just go carried away, sorry." Liz replied with an apologetic smile.

"Well, that's alright then, as long as it wasn't too drastic." Tom said, motioning for Liz to join him at the dining table.

"So, how was work yesterday?" Liz asked Tom, smiling. She had forgotten to ask him the day before.

"It was good, although some of the kids found themselves in detention." Tom replied, he really appeared to like his job.

"Oh, what did they do?" Liz asked, curiously.

"Well, one shouted at a teacher and the other two were found skipping class, could you believe it, these students said that they had gotten lost when they had been there for two years already," Tom laughed, "Anyway, enough about me. How was your day?"

"It was the same as it usually was, I wish I could say more, I really do. But, you know if you work with the FBI you have to keep your mouth shut tight about certain things and that is pretty much everything." Liz replied, taking a sip of water from her glass.

The next day dawned bright and early, Liz was awoken by the sound of voices coming up from downstairs. As she layed there she could hear words like: work, something about a promotion and her name. Why would her name come up if her husband was getting a promotion? As far as Liz was concerned, she didn't get a say in whether or not her husband got promoted, so why should this promotion concern her? After all, Tom was only a school teacher.

With her mind buzzing, Liz slowly got out of bed and crept quietly across to the stairs leading down into the lounge room. She stilled when she heard her name again, but this time it was in a furious tone of voice.

"She's my wife! How did she find the box? I don't know, I can't explain it. But what you are suggesting…" Tom's voice carried up from the kitchen. Liz's breath caught in her throat, oh no! She could literally feel the walls crumbling down around her.

"It has to be done, you know it has to! I don't know why you decided to marry an FBI Trainee in the first place, that is completely beyond me." Another low angry voice responded.

"She isn't a trainee anymore, she an FBI profiler." Tom seethed, annoyed.

"And that is all the more reason to do it!" The unknown man's voice said.

Liz gulped, it sounded as if her husband and this other man were planning her murder.

"Fine, I'll do it before she wakes, she won't even wake, so she won't even know." Tom said with a sullen voice.

"Make sure that it happens." replied the strange man.

"Of course." Tom's voice again.

"And before I leave here is my number, only call it when the deed is done. And my name is Charles Frayne, but most people call me "Charlie", I will see you at a later date."

That was all Liz stayed to find out, she flew back into the bedroom, closed the door and hurried to find her already packed duffel bag – she had packed it in case of emergencies, well she had actually packed earlier this week when she still doubted her husband's innocence and this Liz thought certainly qualified as an emergency. Liz thanked herself for packing and deciding to leave it that way, she then quickly pulled on some track pants and a jacket over her pajama shorts and shirt.

Just as Liz had picked up the duffel bag and was contemplating on how to get out of the house without Tom knowing, she heard him coming up the stairs. She held her breath for a second, what was she going to do? Looking around for a moment in her panic, Liz's eyes stopped on the bedside table lamp and dropping the duffel bag, she leapt towards the lamp and seized it up, she then positioned herself next to the bedroom door, waiting.

Tom was muttering to himself when he reached out and opened the bedroom door, fully expecting to find his wife asleep and dreaming, blissfully unaware to what was about to happen to her, when CRACK and SMASH occurred, he found himself falling to the floor in a daze.

Liz was still poised to strike again holding the lamp stand, having just hit her husband over the head with it and having shattered the glass lampshade. She quickly dropped that and picking up the duffel bag once more she jumped over her husband and bolted down the stairs. Liz reached the front door, where she grabbed her handbag and car keys, flinging open the door she looked back when she heard a grunt and saw Tom standing at the top of the stairs staring at her with wonder on his face, which became a determined expression as he started to descend the stairs drunkenly.

Liz didn't stick around to watch him stumble down the stairs in chase, instead she raced to her car, got in, struggled with the keys in her haste, but managed to start the car just as Tom made it to the front door. Liz saw him, stomped hard on the accelerator pedal, flying out from the curb of the road and was off driving as fast as she dared to go.


	3. Chapter Two: A Place to Stay

Chapter Two: A Place to Stay

Liz did not know where she was going to go, but there was one place she could go – she would be safe there. Even though she had been furious with Reddington, Liz now realized with perfect clarity that everything Red had said was true, he had been right all along about Tom, she felt nauseous, stupid and above all sorry. At least Red would not judge her, well, she hoped not, in any case, because she had nowhere else to go.

Liz pulled the car into Reddington's driveway, before getting out, she made sure to grab her handbag, placing her gun in the duffel bag as she looked around to make sure that no one had followed her, Liz threw herself at Red's front door, banging frantically and waiting for someone to open it.

By the time, Dembe had opened the door; Liz was crying a torrent of tears and could barely stand, so Dembe lead Liz over to a couch. Reddington was standing at his favourite window looking out when she came in. He turned to see the mess she was in, walked over to a cabinet and grabbed a bottle of that strange discoloured, distilled alcohol and two glasses.

Sitting on the couch beside Liz, Reddington poured the alcohol into the glasses and handed one to the crying woman. It seemed to Liz whenever she was upset and anywhere near Reddington that he would somehow hand her a glass of alcohol, for a moment Liz thought maybe a crying woman made him uncomfortable, but she quickly dismissed that idea when he didn't say anything but took a sip from his own glass and almost choked.

"God, that's even bitter than the last one," Red commented, swirling his drink.

Liz laughed shakily and hiccupped, wiping away her tears. Red gave a small smile in amusement before taking another sip, which prompted Liz to take one, who coughed.

"What's this one made of?" Liz asked face slightly twisted at the taste.

"It seems that my dear friend has fashioned a bizarre concoction of cranberry, lemon, lime and orange." Red replied giving his glass a thoughtful look, "Sometimes I wonder just what inspired him, but I think I would rather not know."

"I'm sorry." Liz whispered, she really was – she was not only sorry about being angry with him but about him always having to be right and above all sorry about everything.

Red nodded once in understanding and asked, "What happened Lizzie?"

Liz was torn between laughing and crying, but she replied, "I hit Tom over the head with my bedside table lamp."

At this confession, Red looked up at her with amused eyes and asked, "What did our dear Tom do to call for such a violent reaction from you?"

Gulping, Liz responded, "I woke up not long ago to the sound of him and someone called Charles Frayne talking about killing me in my sleep."

Red, still looking at her, narrowed his eyes in obvious anger, he knew what he was going to do and so did she. After all, he was a monster and they both knew it.

"Lizzie, you look awfully tired, this house has three bedrooms, one is mine. You can choose between the two free ones, although I recommend the room next to mine – so I can keep a closer eye on you. You mean very much to me and worth so much more alive and awake Lizzie, so I suggest you get some sleep while it's still early." Red said, getting up from the couch and leading Liz to the second bedroom.

"What time is it?" Liz yawned, carrying all her bags with her.

"It's 5:30 am, Lizzie." Red replied, steadying Liz as she swayed tiredly and pushing her into the room.

"What were you doing when I arrived?" Liz asked, walking over to the double bed and placing her bags down beside it.

Red scanned her with his penetrating gaze before answering. "I was watching what appeared to be the very first sunrise."

"Oh, that sounds nice." Liz slurred tiredly.

"Go to sleep, Lizzie." Red said, smirking softly at her.

"Okay." Was all Liz said, already climbing under the blankets and promptly falling asleep. Red watched her for a moment, before turning and pulling the door closed.

"Dembe," Red called, signalling for the dark man to come over to him.

"Boss?" Dembe, questioned, waiting for Reddington to speak.

"We are going to go scout out Tom Keen and the house he lives in, we are going to see if we can find him – if he hasn't already fled. However, before we go I would like you to contact Grey and get him to pull any files that exist about Elizabeth's husband and at a later date to pull files on a man named Charles Frayne. I am expecting to find at least a paper trail where Tom Keen is concerned." Red said, pouring himself another glass of the strange alcohol.

"Yes sir, I am onto it now." Dembe replied before dialling Grey's number and walking into an empty room.

Red was finishing the second glass when Dembe came back out and gave the news that Grey could not find any records regarding Tom Keen, accept the most recent one from when he was in FBI custody. There was no paper trail, nothing, which made Red frown a little.

"So he is smarter than he lets on," Red mused, sighing and rubbing his temples, "Do you have the box?"

"I'll go get it, sir." Dembe said, disappearing into the empty room once more and emerging carrying the box that had been taken from the Keen's house floorboards.

"There may not be a paper trail of any sort, but this symbol," Red said, sliding his fingers across the engraving on the box's wooden lid, "This is the symbol of the Bermuda Triangle."

"Isn't the Bermuda Triangle the part of the ocean where people, planes and boats go missing and are never found?" Dembe asked confused.

"That is the place where the Bermuda Triangle operates, it is a group of three main co-conspirators – a highly trained and deadly team of criminals, rumour has it that one is a ruthless bitch only known as K.E.M. Another is an expert assassin and a man known only as "Charlie" who is said to be a messenger of sorts." Red replied, "Of course, nobody really knows exactly who these people are, it's all very mysterious. The government thinks that it is a myth, as do some other people, however the vast majority think of the Bermuda Triangle as a place that is cursed. However, what this means is that Tom is working for the Bermuda Triangle. He is a either a follower or a middleman of a kind."

"So he is someone who cleans up the mess, so to speak, you don't see him coming for he seems to be such an unlikely force." Dembe said, nodding in understanding.

"Indeed. A wise man once said, "We are most alone when we are with the myths." Red said, with an entertained voice.

"Great, this is going to be hell. Do you think that, that Charles Frayne guy could be the "Charlie" of the Bermuda Triangle?" Dembe asked, thoughtfully.

"It is possible, since Tom was having a good chat with about Elizabeth's planned murder." Red agreed, anger sparking in his sharp eyes.

* * *

At the Keen house, Reddington, Dembe and Grey snooped around the house carefully, looking for anything out of place, they found the smashed lamp still on the floor and some blood that was obviously Tom's since Lizzie remarkably didn't have a scratch or anything on her.

"Boss, I was wondering while we are here, do you think we should pack some of her clothes and stuff to take to her?" Dembe asked, looking convinced that Liz was not coming back to this house.

"You might as well, I have the strangest feeling that she will be staying a while." Red replied, looking around the bedroom before moving into the hall. Reddington and Grey were discussing variables of the situation when Dembe gave a shout for them to come back to the bedroom.

When they re-entered, they found Dembe holding a camera that had a red light flashing, telling the three of them that it was recording.

"What's got you shouting about a camera for?" Grey asked Dembe, annoyed.

"This camera was running when I found it, filming the bedroom, I also found one in the bathroom even! I don't think that your girl, Boss is the kind that would film herself." Dembe replied, looking at them weirdly.

Red looked furious for a second before saying, "Search the house, if there were camera's here, they are bound to be everywhere."

After their search, Red, Dembe and Grey had found all the cameras in the house and were just looking at each other, lost for words, thinking.

"Do you think it was the Bermuda Triangle, Boss?" Dembe asked Reddington.

"No doubt, I'm even betting on it. They were most likely watching Tom, but they got an added bonus of watching Lizzie as well. They can be quite the paranoid bunch, so I've heard." Red replied, incensed.

"So what does the Government and most people think of the Bermuda Triangle?" Grey asked, curious he had never really paid that much attention to the myth, he was just beginning to see that he should have.

"The Bermuda Triangle or "Devil's Triangle" as some call it and most believe is a make-believe place located off the southeastern Atlantic coast of the United States of America, which is noted for high incidences of unexplained disappearances of ships and aircraft." Red replied, "Make no mistake, those "Incidences" are not just that, they were planned attacks by the group called the "Bermuda Traingle" these people work in three different areas that make up the triangle: Miami, Florida and San Juan, Puerto Rico. The US Board does not recognize the Bermuda Triangle as an official name and the US Navy does not believe the Bermuda Triangle exists as I have said before, they think of it as a myth." Red paused for a short breath then continued to explain. " The USS Cyclops in March 1918 and the aircraft of Flight 19 in December 1945 were not accidents, the Bermuda Triangle are very good at what they do, for no physical traces of them have ever been found. Whenver the Bermuda Triangle commits a serious crime they use the knowledge of that part of the ocean that has a significant factor with regard to missing vessels it has a strong ocean current called the Gulf Stream. It is extremely swift and turbulent and can quickly erase evidence of disaster." Red finally finished his explanation.

"That's clever, using Mother Nature to hide what you have done forever." Dembe said, whistling.

A couple more minutes passed as they continued discussing the Bermuda Triangle, until Reddington decided that they had better get back to his house to wait for Lizzie to wake up at 7:00 for work.


	4. Chapter Three: A Phone Call from Dembe

Chapter Three: A Phone Call from Dembe

Liz was just starting to wake when she felt a presence in the room and felt as if someone was staring at her, when she sat up and looked to find the source promoting the feeling; Liz found that Reddington was sitting next to her bed in a chair, just watching her.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer, Red." Liz said, slightly irritated.

"Morning Lizzie, how did you sleep?" Red asked, smiling softly, completely ignoring what she had said.

"Alright, I guess." Liz replied, still unnerved that he was so calm, content and was still sitting there.

"Dembe has cooked breakfast for you." Reddington announced, getting up and moving towards the door, "You'll want to get dressed soon, since I don't think that you want to turn up to work wearing that."

Liz glanced down to see what he meant; she was still wearing the track pants and jacket over her pyjamas. Well, that would not do, she thought.

* * *

After a full breakfast, Red and Liz headed into the FBI headquarters, where the FBI Assistant Director, Harold Cooper, started into a speech.

"We have been seeing a lot of what appears to be criminal activity, there has been three disappearances in the last couple days." Cooper said, pointing at the information boards. "This is Marie Gold, she vanished after a five hour shift working at the Sheraton Vistana Villages hotel in Orlando, Florida, and over here," Cooper pointed to another photo, "is Shannon Brockdale, he was a photographer for '_New_ _Times of Miami_' a magazine based in Miami which centres around alternative news and art weekly. The last person to go missing so far is Lorraine Martin," Cooper said, pointing at the third victim, "She is nineteen and was working in San Juan, Puerto Rico, as a Journalism Columnist and was partaking in volunteer work at the local animal shelter on the weekends." Cooper paused for a breath then said, "What we don't know is what ties these three individuals together."

"Hmmm…." Reddington hummed, walking forward to get a closer look at the boards, "Ever heard the saying that everything comes in threes?"

"Of course," Don Ressler said, "My mother always, told me, "If you get hurt once, it is going to happen again two more times."

"So, what in this case its three disappearances?" Liz asked confused, she had not yet heard about the Bermuda Triangle.

"Lizzie, have you ever heard of the Bermuda Triangle?" Reddington asked, looking at Liz, waiting for her reaction.

"Everyone has, it's just a myth." Liz replied, "What has that got to do with anything?"

"Let's just say, it has everything to do with this case, the three disappearances, it's a trademark sign to anyone who knows the meaning. The Bermuda Triangle is a group of three criminals based in three locations, Miami, Florida and San Juan, Puerto Rico, this case has the Bermuda Triangle written all over it." Reddington replied, "While I'm in an open mood, I shall tell you that I went to your house while you were asleep, and had a look around, it's a nice house, cosy one could say."

"What were you doing in Agent Keen's house while she was asleep?" Ressler shouted, looking suspiciously between Red and Liz. Cooper just looked squarely at them both.

"Lizzie was asleep at my house," At this Ressler looked slightly deranged, "Because her husband, Tom tried to kill her." Liz closed her eyes at the mention of Tom, while Cooper and Ressler looked scandalised. "He is currently no where to be found, but I did find something worth mentioning." Reddington said.

"What was that?" Liz opened her eyes and focused intently on Red.

"I found cameras recording all over your house, Lizzie." Reddington replied, looking at Liz.

"What!? I don't understand." Liz said angry and confused, why would someone bug her house?

"I also found reason to suspect that the Bermuda Triangle was behind it, not to mention that the box that was under your floorboards had the insignia for the Bermuda Triangle engraved on the lid. This means that our beloved Tom is working with them and that guy that was talking to your husband, Charles Frayne that goes by the nickname of "Charlie" to most people is one of the three points to the Bermuda Triangle, the messenger to be exact." Reddington finally finished.

"Oh god, this is twisted," Ressler commented.

"You have no idea," Reddington responded, "I have three names on my blacklist, one is K.E.M. initials of number one of the Bermuda Triangle, the second is an assassin and the third is "Charlie" and together they make the Bermuda Triangle – an extremely deadly force."

"So, the Bermuda Triangle is who we are hunting then," Cooper said after the explanation that both Dembe and Grey had received. "K.E.M., an assassin that we need a name for and "Charlie" who is really called "Charles Frayne," they may have been good up till now, but they have made a mistake and that mistake is what will make them fall." Cooper finished.

At that moment Reddington's phone rang and Red answered, "Dembe, what is it? I'm in an important meeting." Red paused, then said, "Hold on Dembe, I'm going to put you on loud speaker, so everyone can hear this." Red pressed a button and Dembe's voice could be heard.

"Word has gotten back to me, Boss. I have heard that a woman named Katherine Earl-Medina has hired "Danny" an assassin to take you out, I don't know when it will happen but I have also heard that the two are in town with a friend." Dembe finished speaking.

"Thank you, Dembe." Reddington said, before turning his phone off, he did not look at all worried that someone had ordered a hit on him. "There you go, that wasn't hard was it?"

"What wasn't hard?" Liz asked, she thought that maybe he should look a little worried, but then again, Red was not a person who showed his emotions on a daily basis. "Who are Katherine and Danny?"

"Katherine Earl-Medina is K.E.M. of the Bermuda Triangle and "Danny" is our assassin of the same group, you now have all the names but none of the faces to the infamous Bermuda Triangle." Reddington replied.

For a moment, everyone stopped and just thought, they now knew whom they were going up against. Katherine Earl-Medina who had ordered a hit from "Danny" and Charles Frayne "Charlie" who came to deliver a message to Tom about getting rid of his wife.

* * *

It was lunchtime at FBI headquarters, as it was 1:00pm and Liz was eating a ham and cheese sandwich when Red came over and sat next to her, carrying a green apple and a glass of Cider.

"I'm not even going to ask where you got the alcohol from." Liz said, looking at Red.

"Good girl, what do you know about Paris?" Reddington asked.

"Not much, we didn't learn about it in school," Liz replied, "Why?"

"Oh no reason, it's such a shame to miss out on all that history, why don't I give you a preview?" Red said, clearly enjoying himself.

"Alright, what have you got to say about Paris?" Liz asked, she knew that she really should not have, for when Red finds something interesting to talk about he will go all the way to the end.

"Paris was the focal point for many important political events throughout its history, including the French Revolution. Today it is one of the world's leading business and cultural centres, and its influence in politics, education, entertainment, media, science, fashion and the arts all contribute to its status as one of the world's major cities." Red said, Liz wondered where he stored all that information.

"Why is that such an important piece of information?" Liz asked, curious.

"Think like a criminal, Lizzie. Paris has so much to offer, so many opportunities to exploit." Red replied.

"What else is there, that helps in the criminal world?" Liz asked, interestedly.

"There are centuries of cultural and political developments that have brought Paris a variety of museums, theatres and monuments. Many of its masterpieces such as the Louvre and the Arc de Triomphe are iconic buildings, especially its internationally recognized symbol, the Eiffel Tower. All of these places could be used in the plots of criminal activity, for example if someone threatened to blow up the Eiffel Tower or the Arc de Triomphe, how do you think the world would react?" Reddington replied, smiling.

"There would be a war." Liz replied gasping, eyes wide.

"Now you see my point, Lizzie." Reddington said proudly, she was finally starting to view the world how a criminal did.


	5. Chapter Four: Chris Ellsworth

Chapter Four: Chris Ellsworth

Just as Liz and Red were finishing their lunch, Cooper started calling everybody back to the meeting room, saying. "We have a situation."

"What's the emergency?" Don Ressler asked curiously, arms crossed.

"I just received a phone call from a local café downtown that a suspicious person had entered and I was asked if I could have the guy removed from café premises, the café manager said that he didn't want any trouble, they just want the person gone." Cooper stopped, looking at both Agent Keen and Ressler he continued, "So I'm sending Keen and Ressler to investigate and bring the man back to headquarters." Cooper motioned for the two agents to go.

* * *

"Who do you suppose this guy is?" Don asked, glancing at Liz and then back the café building, as they both got out of the FBI van.

"No idea, but we are about to find out." Liz replied, as they both headed towards the café. As they walked, Liz felt for her gun to make sure it was there in case things got messy.

Liz spotting the café manager went to ask the man some questions.

"Hello sir, I am Agent Keen and over there is my partner Agent Ressler, we are here to investigate a phone call made from this café earlier today." Liz announced, shaking the man's hand.

"Thank you for coming, Agent Keen. My name is Alfonzo Terrell and I am the manager of this café, I did indeed call for your assistance in getting rid of that man seated over there by the window. I am concerned, because he came in acting strangely and I suspect that he may be carrying a weapon of some kind, for he keeps feeling around his coat pocket, as if to make sure that something is still there. I said before, I don't want any trouble, so could you be nice enough to remove him for me?" the manager replied, grimacing.

"Don't worry sir, my partner and I will take care of the situation." Liz told the man calmly, before leaning towards Ressler, "Be cautious, the manager thinks that the guy may be armed."

Ressler nodded, placing his hand over his gun in case he had to use it quickly.

When the two agents approached the man seated by the window, they asked politely if he would accompany them outside, the man nodded placing the newspaper he was reading down on the table, where a bold headline read: Skydivers Flee Burning Plane. Seemingly unconcerned, the man followed both agents out of the café.

"I'm sorry about this sir, but we have to ask you to come with us back to FBI headquarters," Liz told the man, who suddenly became panicked as he saw their FBI badges.

"Calm down sir, you are not in any trouble." Ressler said, trying to placate the man, "Please get into the vehicle." The man however, in a fit of hysterics turned and ran, bolting down an alleyway.

The agents looked at each other, nodded and took off after the running man. After a minute or so, Liz and Agent Ressler were closing in on the suspect, who then at that point turned back toward them holding a gun that he pulled out from a pocket in his jacket.

Liz's eyes widened, but she did not hesitate to pull her own gun out and point it back at the armed man in turn, whilst Ressler also had his gun pointed at the man and demanded that he drop his weapon or they would shoot.

However, the unknown man was going to play the catch-me-if-you-can game and fired a round of bullets in their direction, two missing Liz by inches as she dived to the ground to avoid being shot and fired back, hitting the man in the right shoulder, effectively making the man drop his gun as he fell to the ground backwards.

Both Liz and Ressler jumped up and rushed over to position themselves standing above the man, pointing their guns at him as they called and waited for backup.

* * *

Back at FBI headquarters, the gunman was locked in the interrogation room waiting to be questioned; paramedics had stitched the bullet wound in his right shoulder to prevent blood loss and to keep him conscious. Cooper stood outside the room with Liz, Ressler and Reddington – who kept giving Liz concerned looks, which were fast becoming annoying in Liz's opinion, why would he care if she was almost shot? Before Liz could think anymore questions up that would likely never be answered anytime soon, she focused on the man inside the interrogation room, looking at him through the one way glass - he was staring blankly at the wall ahead of him, his hands rested on the table in front of him, handcuffed.

"Do we know his name?" Cooper finally asked, glancing at his agents.

"No, he didn't have any ID on him, no driver's license and no birth certificates. We did find that he had at least a $1000 in his wallet though, along with a few phone numbers, we called those but no one answered, we tried tracing the calls however, that lead us to another dead end." Ressler replied, explaining that the man they were looking at was basically an unknown.

"Alright first things first, get Meera Malik to interrogate him, I want an experienced CIA agent to do it, she'll know how to handle this bug." Cooper stated.

"I'll go call her in now, sir." Ressler said.

* * *

"Who are you?" Meera questioned the man, staring at him.

The man glanced at her and ran a hand through his light brown hair, sighed and said, "My name is Chris Ellsworth."

"Why did you have a gun?"

The man refused to answer, so Meera asked a different question.

"Why did you shoot at Agents Keen and Ressler?"

"I panicked is all, I don't know!" Ellsworth exclaimed, at the answer Reddington gave a little growl and Liz shot him a look that said, 'Shut up'. Red replied with a look that said that they were going to talk about this later and Liz huffed loudly while Reddington only smirked at her.

"You panicked? This is not an excuse to shoot at somebody! What is the real reason?" Meera questioned, but received only silence for her efforts.

Meera eventually came out of the interrogation room, sighing in annoyance.

"What do you think?" Cooper asked, interested in Meera's opinion.

"He's French, that much is clear." Meera replied.

"Do you think he could be lying?" Cooper asked.

"I don't think so, he displayed all the characteristic signs that he was telling the truth about his name, but not about why he shot at two agents or ran from them," Meera replied, "He is definitely hiding something and whatever it is, it's something big."

Liz looked thoughtful, while Ressler grunted in anger – he was still sore about being shot at, Cooper glanced at him before turning back to thank Meera for her help and looked at Reddington, a silent question passed between them and Red said, "I'll see what I can find out."

Half an hour later, Reddington walked back into FBI headquarters carrying a folio of papers and handed them to Liz, who started spreading the sheets out on the table for everyone to look at.

"Chris Ellsworth, 24 years of age and already on France's top list of most wanted criminals." Red said, explaining the situation.

"What did he do?" Cooper asked politely.

Reddington glanced at the whole team, but his eyes lingered on Liz as he answered, "Chris Ellsworth took part in an unbelievable solo heist that took place in Cannes, France. The heist lasted only thirty seconds, in and out, no one got hurt but our new enterprising criminal in there," Red indicated the interrogation room, "managed in what could be described as one of the greatest strokes of luck imaginable, bursting into an exhibition room of the Carlton hotel at the same time that the staff of the building were in fact carrying a briefcase that contained highly valuable jewels for the "Extraordinary Diamonds" exhibition at the hotel. Ellsworth did this all at gunpoint and made off with jewels belonging to an Israeli billionaire – Gaston Levi." Red paused for breath and then said, "Isn't it amazing that an ordinary man simply walked into a hotel at the right time and successfully ripped off a billionaire at the same time that he robbed the place?"

"It's no wonder that the man is at the top of the wanted list in France, I mean if I were that rich I'd have hit-men out after him," Meera commented.

"It sounds like he is working for someone, does he still have the jewels?" Cooper asked, looking at Reddington.

"No, they haven't been seen since the robbery took place," Red replied, lips thinned.

"Okay, Meera, I want you to find out who this clown is working for." Cooper told her.

A minute or two later and Meera came back out of the interrogation room, saying that Ellsworth had said that he was working for the IRA and it was them who had the jewels now.


	6. Chapter Five: The IRA

Chapter Five: The IRA

"What's the IRA?" Liz asked confused, she had heard the term before – in passing, but did not really have any idea what it actually was.

"The IRA stands for 'Irish Republican Army', but in this case we essentially mean the 'Provisional Irish Republican Army." Cooper replied with concern written on his face. "I'll assume you know more about it than we do, Reddington."

"Don't you ever get tired of assuming that I am a walking encyclopedia?" Reddington asked distastefully, glaring at Cooper.

"Aren't you? Because for a moment there I was quite convinced." Ressler commented, sarcastically.

Reddington eyed him disdainfully, before saying, "I don't know about you Donald, but my favourite subject at school was in fact Modern History and I may have spent most of my time at school in the library reading up on various aspects of that subject. I however learnt a conceivable amount from my travels around the world and from contacts that live in different countries, what I am trying to say Agent Ressler is that contrary to popular belief, I do not know everything. That would be simply impossible."

"But you do know what the Provisional IRA is, don't you?" Liz asked looking right at Reddington, meeting his eye when he looked at her.

"Yes" Red replied, he would not deny her question. After all, he had requested to speak with only her and in a sense if she asked, he would tell her - just not everything. "The Provisional IRA was formed in December 1969 it is a group that split from the original IRA."

"Why did they split?" Cooper questioned with interest.

"They split over differences of ideology and how to respond to violence against the nationalist community." Red replied frowning, he hadn't had any dealings with the PIRA before and was wondering how they fit in with everything, but it was clear that it was important that they find out. "The IRA is a proscribed organisation in the UK under the Terrorism Act 2000 and an unlawful organisation in the Republic of Ireland. The United States does not list the IRA as a "foreign terrorist organization", but includes them in the group of "other selected terrorist groups also deemed of relevance in the global war on terrorism."

"Does it have any active service units?" Ressler asked.

"Yes, a system of two parallel types of unit within an IRA brigade was introduced in place of the battalion structures. Firstly, the old "company" structures were used for tasks such as "policing" nationalist areas, intelligence gathering, and hiding weapons. However, the bulk of real attacks were the responsibility of a second type of unit, the active service unit (ASU). To improve security and working capacity, these ASUs were smaller, tight-knit cells, usually consisting of five to eight members." Reddington supplied, wracking his brains with ease.

"Were the Provisional IRA involved in any organised crime?" Liz questioned Red, with clear intrigue. However, she really just wanted to get to the bottom of this latest mystery – so that they could get back to the first one, regarding the Bermuda Triangle.

Red smiled at Liz, like it was just the question that he was waiting for her to ask. "The IRA have allegedly been involved in criminal activities, including racketeering, bank robbery, fuel laundering, drug dealing and kidnapping. However, you can now safely say that they are into stealing jewels as well. Seems that they are getting greedy. Don't you think?"

"Who are they really?" Cooper asked, while both Agents Keen and Ressler focused on Red.

"Low life savages if you want to take it that far, but they have the means of getting exactly what they want and when they don't they normally kill whatever it is that they are holding hostage for ransom and other stuff like that." Reddington replied, "For example: European horse racing champion, Shergar who won Horse of the Year in 1981, was stolen from the Ballymany Stud on 8 February 1983 by masked gunmen who were working for the Provisional IRA, he was never found. Since his owners and government refused to pay the ransom for which he was being held. It just goes to show how low these people are capable of sinking."

"Stealing a race horse? I can definitely see how low that they are sinking." Ressler commented.

"I've just had a thought, could the Bermuda Triangle be in league with the Provisional IRA? You said that they would sink low enough to get what they want, I was just wondering would they sign a deal with the Bermuda Triangle to do just that?" Liz asked looking at Reddington, while Cooper and Ressler both looked rather doubtful at this suggestion.

Red glanced at Cooper and Ressler, seeing the disbelieving expression on their faces, he said, "I wouldn't be surprised if they did, in fact the more on their side the better for them. After all, one should never underestimate international criminals – they have people everywhere, all around the world – expanding their horizons."

"And you would know this how?" Ressler asked, sneering.

"Dear Donald, what did you think I was? A circus monkey? Remember Ressler, I don't care about the small fry, I am way more interested in catching the big fish and that means travelling. Make no mistake I am the worlds most wanted criminal and as it stands, wanted by some of those big fish so that their secrets aren't revealed." Red replied scathingly.

"Would you like me to go and ask Ellsworth if he knows who the Bermuda Triangle are?" Meera asked, looking at Cooper intently.

"You might as well, he may not know who the Bermuda Triangle are – so, ask him if he recognises their names instead." Cooper replied, giving Meera the okay to go ahead.

"You back for more questions?" Ellsworth asked when Meera re-entered the room for the third time that day.

"We have a few questions, yes." Meera said, studying the man across from her. "Do you know a woman named Katherine Earl-Medina?"

"That bitch with the long black wavy hair? Snobbish voice and an attitude so high that not even a ladder could reach? Yeah I met her one time, she was talking with the leader of the PIRA and she asked if I could get her an english tea with cream and biscuits – as if I was a waiter, I didn't like her much even though she was hot, she was just down right cruel I tell you." Ellsworth replied unreservedly, a steel glint came into his eyes as he thought about getting a revenge on K.E.M. as she was sometimes known.

"So Medina is working for the Provisional IRA?" Meera asked thoughtfully, "What was her job?"

"She didn't really have one, I don't think. She seemed to be someone who called the shots and didn't take orders. Up to this point I think the PIRA and her team or whatever it was, just collaborated with each other." Ellsworth replied, rubbing his hands together in anticipation and still thinking of the sweet revenge.

"Okay, onto one of her associates. Do you know who "Danny" is?" Meera asked, she really felt that they were starting to get somewhere.

"I haven't exactly met this guy, I heard that he's an assassin – one of the best. He works for whoever has the highest offer and he will always do his job to the highest standard that his clients want." Ellsworth said, pausing, he thought for a moment, "Most people just call him "Danny" but his real name is 'Danny Rapper' I heard one of the guys in the PIRA call him that."

"I have just one more question, do you know Charles Frayne? He is sometimes called, "Charlie."" Meera asked, piercing Ellsworth with an intense stare.

"I have seen him, he comes into the PIRA Headquarters. Most of the time he is running back and forth around the place, he's a messenger I think. He travels a lot too, since that black-haired bitch refuses to phone call anyone in a different country. So she sends him, with envelopes and files trading information with the PIRA." Ellsworth supplied, sighing in satisfaction. He hadn't yet realised that once the FBI were finished with their questions that they were flying him back to France and turning him over to the authorities there.

* * *

Later that day after work, Liz and Reddington were arriving back at Red's home where Dembe was waiting for them at the front door, a nasty smile curling his facial features.

"What are you so happy about, Dembe?" Red asked, always curious by nature.

"I have found Mr. Keen." Dembe responded with a slight bounce in his step as he led both Liz and Red into the empty room of the house.

"You have done well, Dembe." Reddington said as he surveyed the beaten man tied to the only chair in the room, while Liz just stared coldly in Tom's direction.


End file.
